


Souvenir

by Bianchin



Category: The Sound of Music - Rodgers/Hammerstein/Lindsay & Crouse
Genre: F/M, Honeymoon, Insatiable Maria, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:42:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28631211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bianchin/pseuds/Bianchin
Summary: He felt himself stiffening, and he knew she could feel it too, as close as they were pressed together. She looked down, then met his eyes again, and winked.He gaped at her.
Relationships: Georg von Trapp/Maria von Trapp
Kudos: 37





	Souvenir

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: not mine.

She wished their first time had been like this.

It hadn't been bad in the least, she reminisced, but it had been soft. Soft words, soft bed, his touch, gentle. His mouth, divine, but supple. He gave to her, and she took, gratefully. He was sweet, compassionate, and she loved him back, moving under him slowly. Feeling his pace quicken, she caught a glimpse of what their lovemaking could be, and a boldness rose in her. She had seized his hair with two hands and pulled his head back, burying her face in his throat, nipping and kissing with abandon, and it was scant seconds later that he collapsed on top of her. The whole encounter, she hadn't raised her voice above a low moan.

She was shouting now.

"Oh, YES, Georg."

"You are TROUBLE," he growled into her throat, his hands gripping her waist tightly as he steered her back into the wall of the hotel suite. She reclined back, pulling him to her, and he kissed hungrily from her collarbone to her lips.

"Want to get into trouble?"

He felt himself stiffening, and he knew she could feel it too, as close as they were pressed together. She looked down, then met his eyes again, and winked.

He gaped at her.

"If I could tell you the things you make me WANT to do, you would be shocked. You would be aghast. You would no longer think I was….what did you call me? An honorable man." He grinned wolfishly, then kissed her nose.

She pursed her lips. "I don't want you to be honorable, Georg. I want you to have me. Here."

"That was one of the things I had wanted, yes..."

"There, you see? We know each other. We want each other. Now, stop debating me and your inner code of ethics, and just do as I ask of you."

"Yes ma'am," he smirked. He wondered at his good fortune, feeling unbelievably lucky to have this woman choose him, and not only choose, but embrace, love, and know him better than, it seemed, he knew himself.

Having been encouraged to misbehave, he did what he felt, which was lift her by the waist, pinning her hips to the wall before him, craning his neck up to taste her lush mouth greedily. His wife responded beautifully, wrapping both legs around him, gripping him hard. Their change in position and her enthusiasm for his boldness had him uncontrollably aroused, and he ground his hips into hers, feeling her warmth through her skirts, pressing her hard into the wall.

She let out a sharp cry, and he pulled back, worry on his face. She raked her nails through his hair.

"Again, Georg."

He shuddered and complied, a frantic rhythm building as he brought their bodies together. He wasn't even inside her and yet he thought he might exert himself fully like this. Her hands were gripping his shoulders, he felt her shift her hips, and suddenly there was more. He stayed pressed against her, eyes wide, circling his hips. The sensation of her fully wrapped around him, yet with no skin contact, was exquisite, and he was quickly losing himself.

"Georg."

She brought him back, and he felt the material of her skirt sliding past his hands and over his thighs as she rose them to her waist. How had he failed so spectacularly that she had to do this herself?

"Let me," He flipped them up to her waist, slipping his hands underneath, over her stockings and up her heated thighs. "You may have to get down though, so I can take off-"

She had flushed crimson. "I didn't wear any underthings," she cut him off, whispering fiercely.

"Trouble."

"Well didn't you say that it was a shame I had to wear them? And you struggled with them so the last time-"

"That infernal CONTRAPTION was not normal, as you are well aware"

"I WANT you Georg, I'm sorry if that's not proper, I don't CARE"

He silenced her with a fierce kiss.

"I want you, too. Desperately. I didn't know, until now, how best to please you. Now I do. I think you will drive me to absolute ruin..." He clenched his jaw, his fingers hurriedly undoing the small row of buttons on the front of her dress.

"And I will beg you not to stop."

He slipped the straps of her dress down over her shoulders, revealing her flushed skin. She helped, slowly removing then replacing her arms about his neck, until she was bare to the waist. She was breathtaking, and he covered one breast with a rough grip, his mouth fastening around her other nipple.

She was awash with sensation, the arousal growing at her center where they were pressed together but not yet joined, his warm mouth mirroring the heat and wetness, tongue flicking her nipple until she trembled against him. She rocked her hips, desperate for more of him, and decided, again, to take matters into her own hands. She reached between their bodies, palm flat as she slid it over his arousal, fingers fumbling at the buttons of his fly. She had two undone before she realized he had stopped his ministrations and was watching her hands. Her eyes met his, and the look he gave her made her shiver.

"You're doing well. Continue."

He nodded his chin downward, and she bit her lip, concentrating anew on her task. Freeing the last of the buttons, she slipped her hand inside, feeling the weight of him through the fabric of his underwear. She felt his teeth against her collarbone, his body leaning against her, pushing into her hand.

Hurriedly she hooked both hands into the waistband of his drawers, pulling until he sprang free. She couldn't look away. Before she had barely seen him in darkness, and now in full daylight it was almost new. Her hand seemed to move of its own accord, palm cupping him from underneath, fingers wrapping around his length as she drew him toward her center.

He rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily as his hand smoothed down her body, tucking her skirts back behind her until he could see her bared as well, his thumb slipping through her slickness, his fingers following, stroking through her folds, pressing against her entrance in the same rhythm of his hips against her hand.

She shifted, tilting her hips forward, pulling him to her with pressure of her calves on his lower back, and felt the tip of him push into her, his fingers parting her around him. For a tremulous second everything was still.

She breathed in, and he slid fully into her.

They fit together beautifully, her rocking against him, finding her own pleasure in the movement of his thrusts. Her hands scrambled to undo the buttons of his shirt, running her fingers through his dark chest hair, then gripping the edges of his collar and pulling him against her. He buried his head between her breasts, open mouth gasping, pressing hot kisses over her pounding heart. She felt the buttons of his shirt press into her, his chest hair rough on her skin, and she looked forward to finding his marks on her tomorrow, reminding her of his desire.

She wanted to leave her own, to remind him that he was hers, and that she would never stop wanting him. She yanked his collar flat, fastening her mouth to the side of his neck where it joined his shoulder, biting and sucking until she felt his skin swell in her mouth, his choked moans encouraging her. He tilted his head to the side and she wrapped her hand around his neck, thumb pressing up and into the side of his neck, just under his jaw. She felt him shake and press closer to her, his pleading moan telling her she was doing everything right. The way he gave her himself, the way he surrendered to her was heady and exhilarating. She'd never known it could be like this.

He couldn't believe how desperate he was for her touch. He knew she was leaving her mark on purpose and he wanted it, relished it. He would feel it all day tomorrow under the loop of his tie. She was undoing him constantly like this, from the first time they had made love-from the first time they had really spoken, heated arguments betraying her stubborn nature, her need to be heard. And God, didn't he love hearing her now, her cries rough and demanding, punctuated by biting kisses to his mouth and neck. She had been like this their first time, frantic and wild, surrendering to her body's needs, and it had hastened his arrival to an almost unnerving degree. Now he knew her, knew that her thighs trembling around him meant she was close, knew that she only wanted him stronger, faster. Knew that she wasn't fragile, and could take, and wanted to take, what he wanted to give her. His hands slid to her hips, pulling her against him, driving into her deeper. He felt her respond in rhythm, matching his movements, and he again was astounded at his luck in finding a partner who was so uninhibited in her desire for him.

He felt her hands press down the length of his back, sliding back up to grip his shoulders, her legs tightening around him as she chased the pleasure building inside her. He felt her tighten around him, once, twice and then the warmth of her release surrounded him. His own body tightened in response, and she murmured encouragement into his ear. She curled the hair at the nape of his neck around her finger as she whispered how she'd never wear undergarments again if this was the result, that she wanted him to take her with abandon, that he made her feel like she was at the top of her mountain when she was on top of him. She pressed soft kisses to his forehead and tucked his head against her chest as she felt him finally shudder and spend inside her.

He rested against her for a long moment, her hands stroking through his hair. She wiggled slightly, and he stepped back, letting her stand on her own. She ruffled her skirts back into place, putting her bodice to rights. He stared at her, still undone, one arm resting against the wall.

"So, lunch?"

He jolted upright.

"You were going to take me to that cafe we passed, remember?"

"You're going back out? Like that?"

"I'll just fix my hair. You didn't get me dirty," She grinned impishly at him, "just a little wrinkled."

"You don't…..I can't even look at you without-"

"Without picturing what we just did?"

He nodded mutely.

"Should I tell you that I can't look at you without picturing the face you made the first time you entered me? Because it's always in my thoughts. So it's about time you had your own troubles."

He stared at her dumbly.

"Well, Georg, are we going out or not?"

He halfheartedly tucked himself back into his pants, doing up the buttons on his shirt. He winced as he buttoned his collar, feeling her mark as a low ache as he tightened his tie.

"Yes, we'll go. But tomorrow," he smirked at her, tucking his shirt back in crisply "well, after what I show you tonight, I don't think you'll be able to walk anywhere."

"Promise?"

He was struck dumb again, and she laughed as he offered her his arm to escort her out of their suite, a knowing smile on both their faces.


End file.
